Renfeld R'Leyh sat alone in the parlor of his house, since the hurricane the house had repaired herself slowly and painfully but, had in the end settled into herself again. As much of an inconvenience as the hurricane had been, he was enjoying the period of relative calm after the storm. Most of the denizens of the house had fled, some few had perished when the disturbed waters of the bayou had regurgitated things he'd created years ago.

Some few of those beasts still roamed and crawled the grounds. Creatures held together by his own careful stitches and murmured enchantments. He liked to see them, thought of them as the fruit of long labors, some of them even bore a resemblance to him. His progeny, not a single one of them near suitable to be called an heir but he had always enjoyed the secret knowledge that he had indeed been fruitful and multiplied.

The book in his lap lay unread, his glass of fine port just barely touched. Despite the peacefulness of his surroundings there was something in the air that bothered him. Some niggling feeling at the back of his head, not quite alarm but something akin to it. He had felt this way before, generally just before being accosted by some manner of infernal beast or other such thing but, he couldn't put a finger on it.

His long fingers tapped slowly against the arm of the chair, someone was watching him. He could feel it on the back of his neck, that tight itchy feeling that creeps up your skin and into your brain. He resisted the urge to turn, the burn scar on his right shoulder tingled vaguely while deep down the thought that it was the witch come to claim him but, he put it out of his mind. Renfeld forced himself to relax, pick up his port and take an appreciative sip.

The creature watching smiled to herself as she came fully into the room, would he recognize her? After all these years and the growing up she'd done. Would he remember her as the sweet little cherub snoring on his pillow or the snarling little beast who'd wantonly cause so much destruction and death in his house? She was eager to find out. Smiling she crossed the room and stood next to his chair looking down.

"Hello."

Courtly as ever he rose and bowed slightly at the waist, took her hand and brought it to his lips. He didn't recognize the pretty tawny skinned woman before him.

"Good evening Miss.."

He trailed off and looked at her with an arched brow over his glasses. She knew what he was thinking, he was already picturing her blue lipped and moaning on his antique autopsy table. Yet another of his reanimated corpse concubines, too dead to fend off his lusty advances but living enough to suffer them. The girl wrinkled her nose at him and her rubicund little mouth screwed up.

"Uncle Renfeld , you don't remember me? Has it really been that long?"

She pouted and looked up at him from beneath her lashes, her big black eyes only twinkling because of the dancing firelight, behind that mirrored twinkle was nothing but barren blackness. He watched as the whites of her eyes bled out slowly and as he took the smallest step back she smiled. Her eyes now an avian solid gleaming black. A wicked little smile on her lips.

"Lostrus ."

She giggled and nodded. She opened the coat she wore and let it drop to the floor. She had created for herself a fecund ripe little body. Barely a shade over five feet tall, milky caramel skin, leonine mane of curly black hair and an almost angelic face. She had an alluring girlish attractiveness that Renfeld was certain served her well when she hunted. He only vaguely noticed the mark on her rounded belly, he was too busy trying to calculate her mood.

Was she still the raging toddler inside that womanly body? At the wrong word would she wreak havoc on his tired house? Despite his worries he gestured for her to join him, only after warmly kissing her hand again.

"You've grown up my dear. If I may say so, you've become a beautiful woman."

Though she always loved flattery she made a sour face at him as she perched in the chair next to his.

"I'm no woman. What is that silly saying? That girl ain't no lady or something? I don't know. I came for a visit. My father is not about is he? Have you seen him?"

He shook his head.

"Not in years actually. Since your kith has scattered the way it has perhaps he hasn't seen the need to be here."

That was as close to the truth as he knew. He sat and watched her, he could feel the throb of her energy against his skin like a heartbeat. She'd grown more powerful, obviously far further in her mastery of her own abilities than she had been all those years ago. As he listened to her prattle on about the hurricane and who knew what else he quite without warning found himself aroused. It wasn't the swift painful arousal he'd felt when she'd been only a tot and whining to be fed. This was entirely different.

It was her smell, a potent mix of pheromones , sweet female flesh and the faintest hint of her sex. He wanted to bury his face at the juncture of her firm round thighs and inhale until his head burst. He squirmed, he didn't like this feeling. He hated any feeling of being out of control. But, he was powerless to stop it. As they chit chatted visions of her naked and screaming her pleasure flitted across his brain. He could almost feel her small pert plump breasts in the palms of his hands, smell the wet musk of the pubic hair he hoped she'd not waxed off like so many women these days do.

A moment before he stood and reached for her a man entered the room noisily.

"Lostrus baby here you are. I thought I'd lost you. You get us a room?"

Renfeld turned to look at the man and the smallest frown tugged down the corners of his lips. He hated that kind of man. Big and rugged with a ruddy drinkers face, just starting to show the effects of a hard life. Loud and obnoxious, very macho. He stood anyway, regardless of the crassness of his company he was ever the consummate gentleman. The two men shook hands while Lostrus gathered up her coat and purse. She trailed her hand across Renfeld's back and offered her cheek for him to kiss.

"We're taking a room upstairs Uncle Renfeld . We'll talk later."

He didn't like her tone. There was something snide and perverse in it she had, some wicked thing in mind he just knew it. He watched the two go off upstairs and instead of settling back down with his port and book of Victorian Essays on witchcraft but found he could not settle down. In fact he was more aroused since Lostrus had left the room. It irritated him and he decided to shower the filth off and just go to bed.

Though he'd intended to go to his rooms to do just that instead he found himself going into his hidden study. The hint of arousal had turned into a burning fury between his legs. His nostrils flared, he had one of his girls on the table as he'd left her. Her lidless eyes rolled as he entered the room and a moan leaked from her stitched shut lips. He tore at his clothes to get them off, the fury taking him in a red tide that blinded him. He knew Lostrus would be upstairs fucking the Americain before she killed him. Or fucking him while she was killing him. The thought caused an aching throb to fire through his loins and red hot rage fire through his brain.

Once naked he threw himself on the hapless girl on his table. He didn't see the once pretty mostly dead girl, what he saw was Lostrus . Snarling he threw himself on the girl, brutally invading her previously untouched sex. His eyes closed tightly, he could see her, that pretty face screwed up in that beautiful expression of exquisite pain. It was her that he felt pumping against him. He saw her face behind his eyes, laughing, taunting him.

He could almost hear her laughter sweet and clear as bells ringing in his ears. He thrust harder, holding the girls ankles and spreading her wide. If he could see or hear himself in such a rut he'd have been appalled. He was a calm man, a refined creature. Rarely did his baser lusts take him this way. But, in that moment all he could think or feel was the absolute need to take Lostrus and make her his. Make her submit to him, he wanted to see her cry, hear her beg for his mercy.

But, none of that was forthcoming. In his rut he ground and grunted over the girl beneath him, his face almost burgundy. When his climax began he ground his teeth, eyes wide open but unseeing. When he came it felt like his back was breaking, his final thrust elicited a high whine from his partner and he sagged. Barely able to get his breath, his vision clouded red. He felt filthy, disgusted and used. She had made her point.

He slowly pulled himself up and off of the girl on the table when he could breath. He frowned when his gaze fell upon his ruined shirt and slacks laying on the floor torn. He picked up his pants and pulled them on, held them closed with one hand as he made his way slowly back to his bedroom. When he entered he saw her laying across his bed.

Lostrus was as glorious naked as he had imagined her to be. From the chocolate tipped plump breasts to her manicured but still full pelt of silky black pubic hair. She was gnawing on what appeared to be a still steaming femur. She smiles sweetly at him.

"Did you enjoy that Uncle Renfeld ?"

Her voice was terrible and it hurt him somehow. Such a sweet girlish almost child like tone. He shuddered. As he'd said before he might have been a black magic wielding son of a bitch but he was no pedophile. And that was exactly what he felt like now. She rose from his bed and stood in front of him, whispering. Her eyes were cold and lifeless as she spoke.

"Do not ever, fuck with me Renfeld . Ever. You tell my father the time has come for him to serve his purpose and I will not be denied."

From coquette to deadly viper in an instant. He nodded once and watched her sashay slowly away, unable to peel his gaze off of her high proud backside as she walked. He shuddered once more and when she was gone walked to his shower. He shook his head as he stood under the near scalding water.

"Times, they are a changing."